


Second-Hand Embarrassment

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Bullying, Derek Gets Therapy, Embarrassment, First Kiss, Future Fic, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Humiliation, M/M, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Stiles Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5018884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not a big problem. It isn't! So Stiles might have to excuse himself occasionally when something on screen squicks him, but it's no big deal. He can handle it, okay?</p><p>But then, of course, Derek just has to go and be all observant, ugh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second-Hand Embarrassment

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic was written in like two hours and Stiles is literally me. Apart from a few details like how he's a guy and few other things. Pfft. Anyway, like a true meanie I have given Stiles my issue. So yeah, this fic ended up very very personal, and I'm gonna do my best to cover all possible triggers for others with similar issues in the end notes. It has a happy ending, though!  
> Also don't ask me what configuration this pack even has. I don't think I even thought that far.  
> Onwards!

They're watching a teen comedy, which is ironic considering their lives up until now has probably been closer to a teen horror flick. Not that there's been much horror lately. And they're also not in their teens anymore, but that doesn't stop them from dutifully sprawling all over Derek's living room for movie night once a month, rescheduling dates and appointments and even work-hours so they can all be there.

 

Stiles originally started it mostly to poke fun at Derek and his idea of pack bonding, which was basically to have them all kick the shit out of each other while the humans made bets on the sidelines.

 

They still do that, but not nearly as often, and usually they'll watch a movie after.

 

It's nice.

 

Once Derek decided he was actually going to stick around he reworked the entire lower floor of his loft so it's now more like a den than the minimalist art statement it had been before. Now it has couches and chairs and a huge TV Derek still maintains they don't actually need. But he's the only one, and it's not like he can't afford it.

 

The movie of the night is one they haven't seen before, and it's good, so everyone is pretty focused on it instead of chatting and goofing around like they would with one they've seen before. It's pretty generic, really, but the characters are likable and the action isn't completely predictable. Which is why the sudden scene-switch to a stereotypical nerd being shoved into a locker comes out of nowhere.

 

Stiles jumps up with a flail, and flitters around for a moment. ”Popcorn!” he announces. ”We need popcorn, why don't we have popcorn, we should have popcorn, I'm gonna go and make some popcorn-”

 

”Stop saying popcorn,” Derek says, and Stiles beats a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

 

At least the pack is so used to Stiles being weird that nothing seems amiss, and he comes back with popcorn just in time for the main character's big moment. He settles back down with a grin. ”What'd I miss?”

 

Derek gives him a look, but doesn't refuse the popcorn when they're shoved under his nose.

 

* * *

 

It's Sunday, and Stiles is mooching on Derek's Netflix as the man himself comes home.

 

”Well, hello, Stiles, come right in, make yourself at home,” Derek mutters, because okay, maybe Stiles forgot to actually ask. But it's been years since Derek was genuinely upset at being dropped in on. Stiles pretty quickly caught on to the fact that Derek likes being around noisy and pushy people, probably because it brings back fond memories. So Stiles had keys made for everyone. Derek's attempt to look angry when finding out was totally ruined by how he got all sniffly and had to excuse himself.

 

Stiles is on to him.

 

”Nice to see you too!” Stiles says, chipper as ever, and squirms deeper into the couch. He's been wanting to marathon this new series for about a month, but college is a cruel and unforgivable mistress.

 

Derek putters around in the kitchen, and Stiles gets absorbed in the action on screen again. But then there's suddenly a prank scene. It's a classic, probably. Some assholes steal the clothes of a guy who's skinny dipping, and Stiles feels bile rise in his throat. He fumbles for the remote and fast forwards until he's completely sure the scene is over. He sighs with relief, and then finally notices Derek has come out of the kitchen, and is giving him an odd look.

 

”That part was boring,” Stiles argues weakly, and he knows Derek can hear the lie without even straining his ears. He chants _pleasedon'taskpleasedon'taskpleasedon'task_ inside his head, and his prayers must be heard, because eventually Derek just plops down on the couch next to him and offers him Cheetos, even though he hates Cheeto dust on his couch with a fiery passion. Stiles takes the sign of affection for what it is, and does his best to not make a mess.

 

* * *

 

Scott knows the deal, and never remarks on it when Stiles suddenly jumps up and leaves the room in the middle of movies. Or, in rarer cases, plugs his ears and squeezes his eyes shut until Scott subtly nudges him to let him know he's in the clear. Scott might be a lovable doofus but he's not completely unobservant. And he's the best friend Stiles could ever have.

 

But the problem with Scott being so cool about it is that sometimes Stiles forgets that not everyone is. It becomes even more clear when he's watching an episode of an old zombie show with Derek, just because Derek was the only one available at the particular time when Stiles suddenly had half a day free mid-week and was bored to death. Derek even took the hour and a half drive up to hang out with Stiles in his dorm room, arguing that Stiles spending his free time mostly driving was pointless when Derek had next to no obligations he couldn't re-arrange. Yeah, Stiles definitely feels the love.

 

But it sort of bites him in the ass when the ancient TV series displays some decidedly ancient views on entertainment, and the nice zombie action is interrupted by a poor attempt at a joke, which mostly involves heckling of a half-naked girl, awkwardly trying to cover herself while the rednecks leer at her.

 

Stiles jumps up and flees, with a ”bathroom break!” tossed over his shoulder, but his attempt at escape is thwarted when Derek just nods and picks up the remote.

 

”I'll pause it.”

 

”No, don't bother, I'll be back before you can blink!”

 

”Not if you actually wash your hands, and you _will_ if you expect us to keep sharing this bag of chips,” Derek says ominously, and Stiles knows he means business. He will literally sniff Stiles' hands to make sure, because he's a germ ninja, and also secretly super worried that the humans in the pack will get sick from lax hygiene.

 

Normally Stiles will just roll his eyes and splash around really loudly in the bathroom for Derek's benefit, but tonight it's actually a real big peg in his wheel.

 

”Dude, I promise I'll wash my hands, all thorough and everything. But seriously, this show is like fifty years old, not much to miss, just keep watching.”

 

”But... you were the one who was so determined to pause when I had to go.”

 

Stiles flails for emphasis, and hopes Derek takes his hammering heart for outrage. ”Because you left just when he zombies emerged! An important plot point! That right there is just fan service for the boob-sexuals out there, and I can find much better racks than that for free on the internet, and without crusty old truckers involved, too.”

 

He can feel sweat starting to build up on his nape, and shifts on his feet. Having talked about it he really does need the bathroom, now.

 

But Derek is frowning at him. ”Why are you arguing this?”

 

Stiles is rapidly reaching a point where his anxiety overrides his ability to think fast, and he eventually gives up.

 

”Derek, please just... press play. Okay?”

 

There's another tense moment, but then Derek just nods and picks up the remote again. Stiles makes sure to splash the water louder than ever as he washes his hands, especially because then he can't hear through the door how the girl begs the men to stop.

 

* * *

 

They're watching American Pie. Stiles has managed to thwart the pack's attempts to watch it on pack movie nights for years now, but this time he's completely out of luck. He was stressed with finals and didn't get a chance to have a say in the movie selection, and when he finally made it to Derek's loft, everyone was already settled in, and the movie starts as soon as he walks in. He can't even claim to be sick, because the wolves would smell his healthy smell and hear his awful lie, and... there's no escape.

 

Scott sends him an apologetic look from the love seat he shares with Kira, a distressingly long way from the only remaining seat available on the end of the couch. Derek elbows the three other betas sprawled on the couch until they scoot over enough that Stiles can actually sit down, rather than wedge himself in, and he's grateful, really he is. But he's been avoiding this movie and its sequels for years and years for very good reason, and now... it's all for nothing. He swallows down the sour taste in the back of his mouth as he plops down next to Derek. The next two hours of Stiles' life will be torture, pure and simple, and he is starting to seriously consider actually vomiting just to have an excuse to leave.

 

But then the first scene starts, and it's not even a minute before Stiles flinches and slams his eyes shut. He breathes through his nose, trying to block out the sounds, but it doesn't work, and he's gonna cry and everyone is gonna ask about it and Stiles can't take it, he can't...

 

There's a weird tilting of his world, suddenly, when Derek squirms around, and starts to rearrange them until Stiles is mashed against Derek's chest, strong arm damn near locking around his neck... and effectively shutting out the sounds. He can hear through Derek's chest how he explains to the curious betas that he's sick of Stiles elbowing him all the damn time, and there's scattered snickering before they all settle down to watch the movie again. When they're all definitely distracted, and the scene has passed, Derek casts a brief look down with raised eyebrows, obviously questioning whether Stiles is okay. He could fucking cry over how Derek saved him just now, and nods shakily.

 

They stay like that for the rest of the movie, Stiles just able to see the screen over Derek's ridiculously muscled forearm, but only able to hear anything when he turns his head slightly. Which means that when he closes his eyes and leans into Derek's chest he can only hear the faintest mutterings, and quick glances reveal when he can safely follow the movie again. He manages to sit through the whole two hours like that, and his legs are only a little bit shaky when the credits are rolling, and he gets up off the couch.

 

Stiles stays as the others leave, because he feels that he might owe Derek an explanation after that. Scott seems extra emotional as he leaves, last one to go, clapping Derek on the shoulder in obvious gratitude, and hugging Stiles extra tight. Kira doesn't even ask at this point, so used to Scott and Stiles needing to hug out everything from good news to bad memories. And it helps. Stiles feels more settled and ready to face the music when Scott shuts the door behind him.

 

”You don't have to stay,” Derek says softly, stacking snack bowls and gathering empty soda bottles. ”I can take care of this.”

 

”No, it's okay, I couldn't be here to help set up, so it's only fair.”

 

Derek snorts. ”By _setting up_ I assume you mean plopping your ass down and waiting for someone else to get up so you can shout demands.” He rolls his eyes, and Stiles smirks, because this is familiar. Derek grousing over manners and people making a mess, and Stiles gently mocking him in return. But Stiles just doesn't have it in him, currently, and instead makes himself useful by scrubbing at a stain on the fluffy carpet while Derek moves around in the kitchen. By the time Stiles deems the carpet Derek-approved, he joins said nitpicker in the kitchen and steels himself.

 

”Thank you,” he says, because he figures that's a good place to start.

 

Derek just nods.

 

”It's... this isn't easy, man-”

 

”Look,” Derek says quietly, gently cutting him off. ”You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to.”

 

”No, I want to. It's... it's gonna keep coming up, and I want someone other than Scott to understand.”

 

There's no response from Derek this time, and Stiles takes the invitation to fill the silence while Derek's hands are busy doing things like wiping the counter and sorting recyclables.

 

”Me and Scott were always kinda at the bottom of the social food chain, you know? Even before high school we were the weird kids. Scott's asthma and my ADD kept us firmly in that category from day one. But Scott at least had the gift of being adorable. Making fun of him was like kicking a puppy, right? But me? I was just a sarcastic little shit with zero attention span and no sense of self-preservation, and that was basically an invitation to every bully out there.”

 

He lets out a huff of bitter laughter. ”My dad being the sheriff really only made it worse.” Scrubbing a hand across his face is like scrubbing off the filth of bad memories, and he finally feels like he has the courage to look at Derek.

 

”I don't know if there's a word for it. I think I've been too scared to look it up.”

 

”PTSD?” Derek suggests, calmly, like they aren't discussing something Stiles has spent his entire adult life avoiding.

 

But Stiles wants to be able to talk about it, especially with Derek who even with his super senses will never read him as well as Scott could when he was still just human. And Stiles wants Derek to get him. For some reason it's very important.

 

”I don't think I'd go that far. It's more like... an embarrassment squick.”

 

“What does that mean? Squick,” Derek asks, leaning against the counter and giving Stiles his full attention.

 

“It's an internet thing. It means something that makes you really uncomfortable or grossed out.”

 

Derek nods. “Makes sense.”

 

It's obvious Derek is trying his hardest to let Stiles explain at his own pace, and it's almost hilarious to watch _him_ squirm for once with the need to say something.

 

“Whatever it is, just come out and say it, Derek. It's a touchy subject, yeah, but you're not gonna break me by asking questions.”

 

It's a long moment before Derek seems to decide that Stiles is right. “Have you tried getting help?”

 

Stiles snorts, because he simply can't help it. “Yeah, no. Tell me, Derek, on a scale of _sure_ to _never in a million years_ how eager are you to talk a therapist again anytime soon?”

 

Derek smiles that soft, closed-mouthed smile of his that means he's amused without feeling like he's allowed. “I'd say somewhere between _hell no_ and a solid _maybe_. They did help me some.”

 

“Yeah, well, can't say I feel the same. And in the light of my mom dying and the whole supernatural deal, it didn't feel like the biggest of my problems, you know? By now it's just a fact of life, and I really don't feel like digging into it on the off chance that it might get better.”

 

“All right,” Derek says, because he's become oddly zen like that over the past few years, and for the first time Stiles wonders if maybe some of the reason for it is that Derek has been going to therapy. It's not the strangest theory he's had about it so far. “Is there anything I can do? Maybe help talk the pack out of movies that... trigger you?”

 

Stiles shakes his head. “Nah, don't bother. I can't always tell when shit like this is gonna hit, and let's be real, here, it's a possibility in almost every movie in history. It's not exactly something they warn for on the cover. Besides,” he says, straightening up and moving his hands with more force as he talks, “I'm not gonna stop watching movies just because I get squicked out sometimes. I fucking love movies!”

 

“You definitely do.”

 

“Damn right. So what if I need to skip a scene here and there? Fuck that! I've dealt with it so far, and I'm gonna keep dealing with it!”

 

Derek smiles at him then, bunny teeth peeking out, and it's infectious, is what it is, and Stiles beams back at him, feeling like real progress has been made.

 

He's not aware exactly how much, though, until the next movie night. Derek herds the pack around mercilessly until he can sit next to Stiles, and without even waiting for a flinch immediately scoops Stiles in against his chest again. It's a little awkward, seeing as they're almost exactly the same height, but they eventually figure out a way to get comfortable, and Stiles mouths a silent _thank you_ at Derek once he's sure none of the others are watching. Derek just grunts at him, though these days it's more because he's too comfy to talk than out of any real reluctance to do so, and it makes Stiles really happy to know.

 

It becomes habit after that, to a degree where Derek even does it when they're alone and Stiles could just as well have plugged his ears or left the room. But Stiles can't bring himself to care, because it's super comfortable, as evidenced by how he manages to fall asleep on Derek once or twice. And Derek must like it too, because the one time Stiles cautiously mentioned that he really didn't have to, Derek had softly announced that “I want to,” and that was that.

 

The kiss should come as a surprise, but it doesn't, really. Stiles is just tucking his face into Derek's chest during a tricky moment when Derek guides his face up instead with a soft touch to his jaw, and presses their lips together, dry, but lingering. Stiles blinks rapidly a few times as they pull apart.

 

“What was that for?”

 

“I could hear your heart speed up. I wanted to make it better.”

 

Stiles narrows his eyes at him. “Are you telling me you kissed me out of the goodness of your heart, here? Cause I'm not buying it.”

 

Derek huffs a laugh through his nose. “No, I kissed you because it feels like we've been going there for a while, and... I kinda wanted to give you something nice to level out the bad.”

 

“Oh, my god. Derek Hale, did you just use our first kiss as _therapy_?!”

 

“It sounds awful when you say it like that.”

 

“It IS awful!” Stiles cries, face splitting in a huge grin. “It's terrible, holy crap, you owe me at least five do-overs!”

 

“There are no do-overs in life.”

 

“You totally got that off Pinterest, didn't you.”

 

Derek's ears go pink, and oh, god, Stiles hadn't even realized he was falling for Derek until that very moment.

 

“I don't even know what Pinterest is,” Derek huffs, but it's weak, and Stiles laughs as crawls onto Derek lap, because he can do that now, he knows he's welcome.

 

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

 

“Nuh uh.

 

“Yah huh,” Stiles counters, joyful, because it finally happened, he finally got Derek to descend to his level, and all it took was a tiny little kiss.

 

Stiles can't _wait_ to find out what he can do with a blowjob.

 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings: Stiles experiences severe second-hand embarrassment from various humiliating situations in movies and TV, as the title says. First time it's a scene of a person being shoved into a locker by bullies. Second time it's a prank played on someone skinny dipping, who then has their clothes stolen. Third time it's a scene of a half-naked girl being heckled by several men. Fourth is American Pie. That movie and everything about it is a warning in itself.  
> There is talk of squicks and PTSD, bullying and therapy. Stiles feels severe anxiety to the point where he can't stay and watch and has to leave, and when questioned about it feels almost as bad.  
> Do let me know if I missed something!


End file.
